Love's Letter Across Time
by Jedi Annie Scrambler
Summary: When Mr. Gold discovers a mysterious letter in an antique desk, his whole life changes. Meanwhile, Belle lives in the 1900s, wishing for her true love. (for tumblr's handwithquill as a Rumbelle Secret Santa 2015 gift!)
1. Chapter 1

For years, he thought nothing of the desk. The old, antique desk sat in the corner of his bedroom for years, as long as he could remember, with no particular significance in his everyday life. That was until, late one night, one of the drawers made a definite thunking noise, as if the drawer had just closed. But it was the middle of the night.

Adrian Gold carefully got out of bed, still disoriented with sleep. He limped to the desk. With cautious hands, he pulled open the offending drawer, reached in and pulled out... a piece of paper? Unfolding it, he read, the letter was dated August 3rd, 1901.

 _Dearest Beloved,_ (the letter read)

 _I regret that I know not your name, nor do I think I ever will. While most think me odd to believe in soul mates, that one true love destined to be your match, but I believe you're out there, somewhere._

 _Maybe I saw you on the street, today, while you passed under my window. Maybe you live an ocean away and our paths will never come close to crossing. But it doesn't matter, Papa announced that I am to be married to Duke Gaston of Albany._

 _Now, dearest, I know what you're thinking, it's a modern era! A new century! How is this man a Duke? Well, Duke Gaston is really a duke in name alone. His family has lost their fortune and I am his last chance._

 _Or so he says? I doubt it. I am sure that there are far more willing and rich girls who would adore to be married to a duke. To be honest, I do not believe that the Duke is the one for me. He is only interested in my father's money, and my father is only interested in Gaston's title and connections._

 _I am not interested in either of them._

 _I am more interested in you, dearest. Everyone thinks me crazy, for wanting to find true love and not a well connected husband. I could care less if you were a beggar in the street, my love, as along as we were happy._

 _I know my letter will never find you, as soon as I finish it I plan to hide it away in my desk drawer, but I wish you every happiness in the world._

 _Love forever and a day, Belle Annmarie French_

Adrian slumped back into the desk chair. He licked his lips before whispering the name scrawled in looping cursive, "Belle Annmarie French."

This letter had not been there two days ago when he'd meticulously cleaned out his desk. So where had it come from? But his hands tingled to pick up his pen, to reply to this sad, lonely woman. He knew what it was like to feel alone in the world.

He moved closer to the desk and wrote.

 _Dear Miss French,_

 _I hope I am not too forward in writing to you, but your letter appeared quite mysteriously in my desk, and I was compelled to reply._

 _I know how to feels to be lonely. I will not bore you with the details of my life, but it has been a solitary one. My soul mate, as you put it, has most likely seen me on the street and walked the other way. Nevertheless, I do not think you're crazy for wanting happiness - more the opposite, I think your family are the crazy ones for denying you it._

 _Don't lose hope, Miss French, for things always look darkest before the dawn. (An old and worn out witticism, I know.) I know it's hard to see beyond your own lonely four walls, but I can't help but feel that a lovely woman such as your self will find your love._

 _Yours truly, R. Gold_

He was dreaming. That had to be the answer, there was no other explanation for why he'd written to a woman in 1901. Carefully, Adrian refolded the letter, and slipped it into the drawer where he'd found her letter. He would most likely wake tomorrow to find his own incoherent ramblings still tucked in the drawer.

But that was not the case.

When Adrian checked the drawer in the morning light, his letter was gone. It had been replaced by a second neatly folded paper, that enchanting cursive inside.

 _August 4_ _th_ _, 1901_

 _Dear Mr. Gold,_

 _Pardon me if I come across as rude, but how did you find my letter?! How did you, good sir (if you are a good sir which I doubt) find yourself privy to my desk, which is in my bed room? It's highly improper of you to be in a single young woman's bedroom._

 _But dubious intent aside, thank you. Thank you for your letter and your kind words and your hope. I probably sound silly and over enthusiastic, but thank you for believing in me when no one else does. Faith restored, now my only conundrum is postponing my marriage and finding my soul mate._

 _I don't think it's too late for you (unless you are inof the habit of snooping in young ladies rooms) to find love. As long as you keep an open mind and a open heart, anything is possible. But I will admit, I often give very good advice, but I rarely seem to follow it myself._

 _To us, Mr. Gold, may we find our loves even if it in the most unexpected of places._

 _Sincerely, Belle Annmarie French_

This was highly irregular. How often did one receive letters from the past? Adrian tucked both of Belle's letters into his pocket, going about his day pretending like nothing was amiss. But in reality, he couldn't get her out of his head.

After work, he went to the library, combing the shelves fruitlessly before settling down in front of a microfiche reader. August of 1901 was a rather boring time in the life of Storybrooke, Maine. There were babies born and people dying far before their time.

It was on August 5th that Belle and Gaston's engagement was announced. The photo was faded but it couldn't diminish her beauty. Adrian stilled, staring at the blurry picture before reading on.

Belle Annemarie French was only mentioned one other time in the year of newspapers. September 14th, 1901, a notice was placed asking for details of her whereabouts. It said that she'd disappeared September 2nd, with a strange man and had not been heard from since.

There was no other mention of her. She seemed to vanish from the face of the earth, for better orf worse.

Slowly, in an almost unattached way, he printed out the engagement notice and the missing person report. It was only when he was home again, sitting at her desk, that he let himself pen another letter.

 _Dear Miss French,_

 _You need not fear, I am not a thief or a home invader. I will explain myself in due time but I will give you this, it is quite an unbelievable story and I mean you no harm._

 _I must admit something else to you. I am a deeply cynical person. It's difficult for me to view love in any other way than a sickness, the most deadly sickness that has eaten away at the most healthy of souls. I am much more of a Ebenezer Scrooge than a Romeo._

 _One must be careful in love. Careful that they have indeed found their right person who only wants the best for them. Don't misunderstand me, I don't mean to imply that you would naively follow the first pretty boy to show you affection - in fact, I believe your reaction to your fiance prove quite the opposite. Nevertheless, it's never a bad idea to be careful._

 _Thank you for your kind wishes, I will treasure them no matter what my fate._

 _Yours truly, R. Gold_

It would be a lie to say that he wasn't impatient waiting to see if she'd respond.


	2. Chapter 2

Belle French excitedly unfolded her latest letter from Mr. Gold. They had been exchanging letters for weeks and it had become the high light of her life. His letters made her much happier than planning her impending wedding to Gaston, which was all anyone would let her do these days.

 _August 29th, 1901_

 _Dear Mr. Gold,_

 _I swear if I have too look at another shade of white I will scream! Wedding plans move forward, despite my protests and requests for a long engagement. Fortunately, the wedding isn't until next year but I see no need to compare the varying shades of white, pearl, cream, dove, and could white so soon!_

 _I did, however, manage to sneak away to the bookshop. Mr. Hubert had set aside a book for me that I have never read. It's called The Time Machine by H.G. Wells and is about a man who travels though time! I've enjoyed it immensely so far. Have you read it?_

 _I must keep my books hidden though, from my father and Gaston. They are of the wholly old fashioned notion that reading isn't an admirable hobby for a young lady as it, "Leads to thinking, ideas, and promiscuity in the weaker gender." It's so frustrating! Why do women even have minds if it's not to use them? To them, all I am good for is being used to make advancements in society and making distinctions between different shades of white._

 _In your last letter you mentioned the mayor of your town, and I must ask, you called the mayor a 'she' several times, was that a miswrite or is your mayor indeed a woman? My apologies for the silly question._

 _But while we are on the topic of my silly questions, will you ever explain to me how you first received my letter? And how you continue to receive and send me letters? You sound so far away, you town sounds so different from my own that I believe that you do not live in Storybrooke. But you reply so quickly, it would be impossible for someone to steal my letters away, deliver them to you, and bring me another without my knowledge._

 _I do not think you dangerous, Mr. Gold, in fact sometimes you feel like my only friend. Please, I must know how you send me these letters I treasure so dearly._

 _I will eagerly await your next letter, it's my only solace in this despicable wedding plans!_

 _Yours most sincerely, Belle_

She tucked the letter into the drawer, smoothing her skirt and cleaning the ink from her fingers before heading down to tea.

An hour of her life wasted on more wedding planning later, Belle rushed up the stairs in a most unladylike fashion. But it was worth it, another letter was waiting for her.

 _Dear Belle,_

 _I have said before that how I came about your letters is quite an unbelievable story. But I suppose I do owe you some explanation._

 _I live in a little town in Maine. It's called Storybrooke, much like the town you live in. We have a mayor, and yes, you read correctly, her name is Regina Mills. I have lived here for most of my life and this roll top desk has sat in my room as long as I can remember._

 _I found your letter in this desk on August 3_ _rd_ _, 2015._

 _It shocked me beyond believe that I had found a letter from over a century ago, especially when I knew it hadn't been in the drawer that morning. You intrigued me, Belle, with your words and your love for a person you had never met, but knew was waiting for you._

 _I was so intrigued that I wrote back, tucking my letting in the drawer where I found yours, never imagining that it would find it's way back to you. Yet it did. And here we are, letter's lost through time._

 _Yours sincerely, Adrian Gold_

Belle stared at the letter. 2015? That was over a hundred years in the future! That couldn't be right; it wasn't possible. What if he was mocking her? She had mentioned that she was reading _The Time Machine_ , maybe he was a cad after her father's money, bribing a maid to fetch her letters from her desk.

But then again, his words, she'd known no one like him before. It felt like there was a great weight atop her chest as she quickly wrote back.

 _How do I know you are not playing me the fool?_

She quickly folded the paper, adding silently, 'oh but how I want to believe you, Adrian .' Paper in the drawer, she didn't have to wait long for the soft bump of the drawer alerting her that there was a new letter.

As Belle pulled out the paper, a coin dropped onto the desk. It was a penny, but unlike done she'd ever seen before. There was a man's profile on it and the year minted read 2015, just like he'd said.

 _Belle,_ (the note read)

 _I wouldn't blame you if you don't believe me, but I sent along a penny to try to prove myself. As you can see, it was minted in 2015, my current year._

 _Believe me or not, I've enjoyed our letters and hope that we can continue writing to each other._

 _Yours sincerely, Adrian Gold_

"Belle!" her father's voice echoed through the house, "Belle! We must discuss something!"

Her hand closed around Adrian's penny.


	3. Chapter 3

August 30th, 1901

 _Dear Adrian ,_

 _I don't know what to do. Papa says that the wedding date has been changed, despite my many protests, and Gaston and I are to be married September 8_ _th_ _. I tried to argue that I would rather a long engagement, to prepare the perfect wedding with the exact right shade of white, but he said that this month has been long enough and we need to be married soon._

 _Adrian, I don't love him. He doesn't love me. They tell me we'll grow and learn to love, but I don't believe that. He's coarse and rude, and I despise the way he looks at me - like he looks at his meals._

 _I wish that you had been born in my time, that maybe you could help me convince my father otherwise. Or I in yours, and I wouldn't have to marry him, and I could support myself like your lady mayor._

 _Do you have any ideas? Perhaps I should fake a drastic illness to postpone the wedding further? Maybe I should go to my cousins' to see if they'll take me?_

 _I worry that I am not thinking clearly since I am so distressed._

 _Yours forever, Belle_

August 30th, 2015

 _Belle, stay where you are, I'll come for you. Adrian_

August 30th, 1901

 _Adrian , how? Belle_


	4. Chapter 4

Jefferson Hatter had a penchant for the strange, scientific, and supernatural. His secluded mansion of a home was lined with book shelves filled with tomes about space, time, physics, mythology, and many more subjects. This made him the perfect candidate for the help Adrian Gold needed.

Also, Jefferson was the only person in the city who Gold would even think to consider a friend.

"I have a bit of a strange favor to ask you," Mr. Gold said, after knocking at Jefferson's door and exchanging pleasantries.

"Ask away!" Jefferson dropped into a lounger, motioning for Gold to do the same, "It's been too long, Adrian, we should get together more often."

"Indeed," Mr. Gold sat down, making a steeple of his fingers, "Do you happen to know anything about time travel?"

The tall, skinny man leaned forward, "Are you wanting to travel through time?"

Adrian shifted uncomfortably, "Possibly,"

"Forward or back?" Jefferson raised an eyebrow, "And perhaps into the 1900s?"

"What? How did you know?" Mr. Gold was astounded.

"The stars! The stars have aligned!" Jefferson jumped up, beckoning from Gold to follow, "The stars have aligned! I predict that a portal to the past - to September 2nd, 1901 to be exact - will open in three days!"

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"And how do you know this portal will work?" the shorter man, leaned on his cane in the doorway of Jefferson's workroom. The walls were covered with mathematical equations, graphs, and star charts.

"Portals like this can be predicted using weather patterns and star charts! They open for only a few minutes at a time but if you jump from a great height, to achieve the required velocity, you can travel to whatever time the portal leads to! That's how I got here - uh I mean," Jefferson turned, flustered, and shuffled through his piles of papers.

"What did you say?" Gold moved closer, but Jefferson thrust a photo in his face.

"Look at this! This is Rudolph Fentz who disappeared from 1876 without a trace only to reappear in the 1950s and get hit by a car!"

Adrian narrowed his eyes, "That was a hoax, a Jack Finney science fiction story!"

"What, seriously?" Jefferson squinted at the photo before throwing it aside, "Either way the portal works! And can take you wherever you need to go, if that need is September 2nd, 1901."

Mr. Gold looked over Jefferson's research, then nodded at the gangling man, "Yes, this might work."

Three days, and several arousing conversations about wormhole theory, later, Adrian Gold and Jefferson Hatter stood in the cold, on the Storybrooke Bridge. Jefferson had been oddly accepting of the fact that Adrian had been magically communicating with a woman from the 1900s. He was also very encouraging of Gold's crazed plan to meet her.

"Are you going to stay there? In 1901 with her?" Jefferson asked as they walked across the bridge.

"I don't know, I don't know!" Adrian waved a hand, "For the first time in my life, I have no plan and I don't give a damn!"

Jefferson laughed, "That's the spirit! Okay, here we are. Are you ready to jump?"

Adrian looked out over the edge. Ever since he was a child he'd been deathly afraid of heights. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked into the churning water. Breath caught in his throat, but he forced himself to fill his lungs with air as he thought about the news paper articles he'd read. She'd disappeared. His Belle, gone from the world on September 2nd, 1901.

This was meant to be.

"I'm ready," he breathed, voice whipped away in the wind.

"Remember, you have until midnight on the second to jump off the bridge again otherwise you'll be stuck in 1901!" Jefferson yelled as Gold approached the edge.

Slowly, carefully, Adrian limped to the edge, clutching the cane tight in his hand as he teetered. Now or never. Life was full of split second decisions that had the potential to change your life - right or left, wheat or rye, to jump or to never have a chance with her.

Then he let himself fall, down, down, down, into the darkness.

His cane clacked against the cobblestones as he stumbled. His landing was akin to a slight misstep on the stairs, one where you step too high and catch yourself half way though.

Adrian took a shaky breath. He'd made it. As fast as he could, he made his way down the street, to his house - no, to Belle's house, this was 1901.

He could feel his heart pound as he rapped on the door. It was strange to knock on his own door, but he wasn't thinking about that as a tall man answered.

"I'm looking for Belle - Miss French?" Adrian rasped.

"What? Who's there Finch?" a stout man who could only be Belle's father came into view, "Who is this?"

"He's looking for Miss French, sir," Finch said.

"And what, pray tell, could you have to do with my daughter?"

"Papa! Who is there?" suddenly, from the blinding light of the house, she appeared.

"Belle," Adrian whispered, is had to be her. She was tiny compared to her father and Finch, with chestnut hair wafting around her shoulders and the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

"Do you know this man, daughter?" Mr. French demanded, "Answer wisely! You'dll be well to remember your fiance."

Belle looked at Adrian , confused, "No, papa, I've never seen him in my life."

"Belle," Adrian gasped again, "It's me, it's Adrian, Adrian Gold."

The book she'd been holding fell to the ground, "Adrian? You said you'd come, but I didn't -" she shook her head.

"So you do know this man!"

"How - how did you find me?" she asked.

"It's rather a long story, but I don't have much time," Adrian couldn't take his eyes off of her, "I only have until midnight."

"How dare you lie to me?" the large man bellowed, "And sneak around with unsavory men behind my back!"

Belle's father grabbed her by the arm, propelling her out the door and into Adrian 's arms. She gasped, grabbing into him for support.

"Papa! What are you doing?!" her voice cracked as she cried out.

"There's no place under my roof for a hussy like you!" he hissed, and Adrian 's grip tightened around her arms. She jumped as the door slammed closed.

"I'm so sorry," Adrian stuttered, letting her go, "It never crossed my mind that this would happen! I never would have come to see you -"

"No," Belle sniffled, wiping her eyes, "Don't say that. I'm happy to see you."

"I'm happy to see you too," he gave her a small smile, "Would you like to go for a walk? Maybe some air would help you feel better?"

Belle smiled, "Yes, I'd like that."

As they strolled back towards the bridge, Belle looped her arm through Adrian 's, "You said you only had a limited amount of time here? How did you even come?"

"It's rather complicated, I hardly understand myself," he chuckled, "But the short version is that I jumped off of the bridge over there, through a sort of portal that only works tonight."

She stopped, clutching at his arm, "Mr. Gold, may I came with you? When you go home?"

He stared at her, "But, sweetheart, it's forever."

"I know, my apologies if I'm too forward though. There's nothing here for me. I can't marry Gaston, and you're here now..." she trailed off.

"Belle," he breathed, stepping closer.

Her mouth parted as her eyes flicked to his own lips, "Mr. Gold," she breathed.

"Please, call me Adrian ," his voice was equally quiet.

"Adrian ," she moved closer, hands grasping his.

Stretching up, her lips brushed his, kissing him gently. Adrian stilled as the warmth from her lips spread through him. Then he let go of her hands, hands wrapping around her waist. Belle's hands went to his hair. He deepened the kiss, soft and slow, causing Belle to moan into his mouth.

As they parted, she starred at him, red faced and panting.

"I - I shouldn't have done that, I'm so sorry Mr. Gold - Adrian -" she stammered.

"It's alright, Belle," he caught one of her shaking hands, "It's alright."

"Maybe papa's right, maybe I am a hussy -"

"Don't say that!" Adrian growled, causing Belle to startle, and he lowered his voice.

"There's nothing wrong with a kiss, sweetheart," he brushed a piece of hair from her face, "Do you still want to come with me?"

"Yes! Of course! If you'll have me.,"

"Of course! You'll like the future, you can kiss whomever you want, marry who you please, and no one will stop you."" he took her hand, "But we have to hurry!"

As quickly as they could, Belle and Adrian made their way to the bridge. He helped her up, leading her to the edge overlooking the portal.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"I want to go with you," Belle replied, "Forever."

And they jumped.


End file.
